An Ode to Unique Brothers
by Awsaya
Summary: "Outoto, never let the cruelties of this world change you." He would never allow his adversaries to become his master. Uchiha Itachi was the master of his own life, and he would willingly sacrifice himself for his village. And his brother, who he loves above all else. These are the inner thoughts of a true hero.


_**An Ode to Unique Brothers**_

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Exhausted but strangely at peace, Uchiha Itachi trudged slowly up steps carved into stone and towards the worn shanty standing at the crest of the hill, which smelled of rain and freshly wet earth, blanketed in the verdant life of springtime and the softness of the sun's wispy rays.

The muted morning sunlight began to disappear behind the growing clouds, a sign that a rainstorm was fast approaching.

Only the accompanying patter of feet much smaller than his own silent ones interrupted the hum of the breeze.

Leaves and blossoms soared like mariners on the wind, spiraling softly through the air until they finally, in a dizzying sweep, fluttered down into the rice paddies. The tiny house that rested on the lip of the mountainside was sheltered by a majestic cherry tree and its branches reaching high above. The shelter's furnishings consisted only of a single chair, along with a red and white uchiwa fan tacked humbly onto the neglected wood panels.

Composed of only three walls, the outer wall was open to the expansive view of each endless hill after endless green hill sloping peacefully beneath the cloud-darkened skies.

Itachi settled onto the chair with silent repose. He sighed and, for the first time in years, felt as though his burdens were shed completely, carried away like the deep green leaves freed from their bark servitude to a system of rooted life much larger than themselves.

Yet—no matter how fervently he wished—there was no smothering the foreboding events that were fast approaching.

"Aniki, I'm going to go practice!"

Itachi tilted his head just in time to see eight-year-old Sasuke dart passed the shanty entrance and farther up the mountainside, his unusually haphazard black hair trembling in streaks behind him.

Tired black eyes surveyed the expanse of Konohagakure terrain stretching out before him in the distance. He could see the whole of the village in its rich grandeur of advanced architecture nestled in the midst of a verdant, forested ocean. People that rose with the sun were just beginning to emerge from their homes in order to head out into the markets where civilians sold produce and supplies grown and crafted on civilian land, much like the civilian-owned rice terraces Itachi was currently dwelling in. The owner, a nice man growing old in years, was extremely fond of the young ANBU captain and allowed him to find solace in the tiny bamboo shelter when he desired it.

He moved his chair to settle just near the entrance of the little house so that he could better view the surrounding hills. With a soft smile in the direction of his little brother, Itachi temporarily rid his mind of the thoughts weighing heavily on his mind and gracefully crossed his ankles.

His careful raven's eyes observed as the spirited little boy attempted to pin the falling leaves to the tree trunk with his brand new shuriken before they could flutter to the ground. Sasuke reached up and grasped a delicate cherry blossom petal in his tiny hand, and lifted it carefully to his nose, reveling in its softness and happily breathing in the sweet smell.

Sasuke's light, mirthful laughter warmed the clan heir's bleeding heart. It shook the impenetrable foundations of his very composure and made him second guess every decision he had made since he had received the orders.

He had thought there had to be another way. A path other than the mindless slaughter of his clansmen.

Quite hopelessly, he had entertained scenarios of him telling his father of Danzo and the elder's plans, to prioritize his family despite the subterfuge he knew they were planning. The numerous deaths and war that would ensue.

However, the one plan he wished he could carry through with successfully was to flee the village with Sasuke and leave the conspirators to murder and fight amongst themselves, or to at least tell Sasuke, to provide him with answers.

No, he decided with pained finality as he watched Sasuke throw a kunai in the air and flip forward to catch it when it came crashing down again, Itachi would rather Sasuke grow to hate him, despise him, rather than tarnish the young boy's knowledge of both their clan and their village.

The weary heir clenched his fists, attempting to calm their violent shaking.

He could only hope that this decision would not become another damning regret.

Itachi smiled bitterly to himself. Of course he would regret it, just like he would regret all.

"Sasuke," he called softly, his deep baritone almost carried away on the gentle winds.

But young Sasuke, always so attuned to his older brother's voice, spun around with an innocent smile and ran through the waving, ankle-high grasses towards the tiny shanty that sheltered Itachi. Patient, calm, understanding Itachi.

Sasuke reached his brother right when the sky ruptured and rumbled with an ominously strong thunder. Threatening lightning tore across the gray, nearly silver skies and torrents upon torrents of warm spring rain fell down to softly bombard the earth below.

The eight-year-old Uchiha settled himself down at his brother's feet, fancying in his adoring mind that the elder Uchiha looked as grand as a powerful ruler on his throne, even when he was resting on such a rickety and old bamboo chair. His wise face was gently creased with lines beneath his eyes. They were born of burdens a young heart should never bear. However, the weariness did little to mask the attractiveness of his dark appearance.

Sasuke was so attentive for his age, but even he failed to notice the growing light in the Uchiha heir's ebony eyes.

A light, not of bright joy or of enlightenment, but of a treasured vision rapidly descending into tragic darkness.

"Yes, aniki?" the young boy asked.

Itachi's eyes softened fondly, "How is the academy, otouto? Are you learning much?"

Sasuke nodded enthusiastically and the wayward mess of his hair emphasized the movement.

A soft smile briefly graced Itachi's face.

It fell.

He turned away from Sasuke's searching eyes, brow furrowing.

The already jaded ANBU felt the sensation of that small slip of paper—the paper containing the most horrid of coded orders—weighing down against his chest, even though he had purposely left his shinobi vest in the compound.

"Nii-san?" young Sasuke's eyes were wide and frightened by the haunted mist within his brother's dark and hazy gaze.

The soft entreaty returned Itachi to his senses with a tentative appeal burning in his throat.

It was a hopeless request, Itachi knew, but he would ask it of Sasuke anyway, because while many viewed the shinobi as a mere tool to a corrupted hierarchy, he would never allow his adversaries to become his master. Uchiha Itachi was the master of his own life, and he would willingly sacrifice himself for his village.

And for his brother.

"Outoto, promise me that you will always be at peace like this. Never let the cruelties of this world change you."

And his heart bled just then, crying out with a wisdom and unhindered sorrow that he hoped Sasuke, his spirited baby brother with his beaming smiles and trusting eyes, would never have to experience.

He would be heralded as a brutal assassin, and rightly so, but all vilification would be worth seeing Sasuke alive and striving towards something, anything.

But it did not and would not ever quell the guilt.

Naïve and confused, Sasuke could only nod eagerly, not knowing what he was promising and how soon he would break that promise.

The crack of thunder drew the attention of both Uchiha to the pleasant rain tumbling down outside.

Itachi hummed, "We should go, little brother, or Kaa-san will begin to worry."

Side by side they walked down the mountain. They treaded slowly and carefully through the lightening rain, Itachi stopping several times to wait for Sasuke, who was often distracted and drawn towards various sights in his state of youthful wonder.

"Look, Nii-san!" he cried. He bounded through the grass bordering the stony steps slick with rain, and pointed at a shallow pool of water with enthusiasm, pondering out loud how they could have possibly missed it on their way up. His black eyes, irises that would soon bleed vermillion like many before him, were alight with a curious joy that seemed to shine out hopefully from behind his long bangs, which the rain stuck persistently to his pale forehead.

Itachi smiled.

The clear pond was filled with little fish. Bright and orange koi swam leisurely within the water, their whiskered lips opening and closing repetitively while they ignored the two observers from above.

The Uchiha heir felt a tug on his hand.

"C'mon, aniki! You promised to teach me how to throw kunai after we get home and eat our morning meal."

Itachi smiled weakly and looked down into the youthful face of his flesh and blood laughing hopefully up at him.

After retying his drenched dark brown hair, he allowed Sasuke to take his hand and lead him eagerly back down the mountain as he chattered on excitedly about asking Kaa-san to pack them a picnic for next year—with onigiri and tomatoes and "dango, Nii-san! Because I know those are your favorite!"—so that they could sit beneath the same cherry blossom tree and make it their sacred tradition as unique brothers, which Sasuke had taken to saying quite often, even without any deeper knowledge or appreciation of its meaning.

Moisture beaded along the lashes of the Uchiha heir, but the petal-scented breeze blotted away the slight flow of tears. And Sasuke did not notice.

Itachi sighed. Tired eyelids fell, closed to all else but the image of the little boy smiling so happily without a care in the world. His tears returned, hiding behind the weak barriers of his eyelids and his self-control.

And little did young Uchiha Sasuke know, his _aniki _would forever cherish that image in his heart.

Until the very last moments of his life.

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**A/N:**

**And . . . I just burst into tears typing the last sentence. I never thought I would be able to bring myself to write anything so Itachi-centered, as it just tears me up inside, but here it is, and I hope you enjoyed it because I'm so happy with it and I love the characters; it really is something special when a genius like Kishimoto creates a plot so intriguing and is carried through by characters so wonderful and emotionally real beyond belief.**

**I included some symbolic references to important figures and moments in Sasuke's future, all for the sake of depth and symbolism. Here are the references in case you missed them:**

**Cherry tree (stability) and cherry blossoms (sweetness): Sakura**

**Orange, whiskered koi: Naruto**

**Ominous thunder and lightning; gray, silvery skies: Kakashi**

**Rain: the rain on the dark day of Itachi's death**

**The chair appearing as a throne in Sasuke's eyes: Itachi sitting on the symbolic throne at the old Uchiha stronghold, as he waits for Sasuke to confront and fight him**


End file.
